


Tell Me Lies

by Maddorable



Category: One Piece
Genre: Food Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-06-23 23:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddorable/pseuds/Maddorable
Summary: Sanji has a problem with food... and with Zoro.





	1. "I'm all right."

**Author's Note:**

> Franky and Brook aren't aboard yet.

Every argument, no matter what kind, begins with a word. In my case, it even started with a whole sentence that...

"What I always wanted to say... you don't eat enough."

... somehow upset me. Oh great, what’s that supposed to mean? Did I miss something? Was I supposed to get off at some point?

“Um… excuse me?”  
For a moment I let go of the dough in my fingers and turned to face him. I didn’t know why – I just had the urgent need to make sure there was still the right person sitting there.

"I think you don't eat enough," he repeated, sounding almost bored. He had his chin resting on his elbow and was watching me attentively.

It has become a familiar sight for the crew that Zoro was sitting at the kitchen table while I was preparing the next meal. A few weeks ago he had just sat down in the galley without saying anything and had polished his swords. I didn’t know why. I had never asked him and he has never told me. At some point, it had just leveled off and nobody seemed to be surprised anymore.

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

Most of the time we kept quiet. We even managed not to offend ourselves. It still surprised me that he hasn’t dropped yet a single derogatory comment on my way of cooking. During our _galley time together_ (I’ll call it that) – i.e. me cooking and Zoro polishing his treasures - this guy was almost something like... like... nice. Yeah, Zoro was nice when he kept his mouth shut. That made sense. That’s something I could deal with.

I was all the more surprised that he had broken our consensual silence, on top of that with such an unqualified remark.

“No, you didn’t, but you know I don’t care, Cook.”  
His gaze made me nervous. Usually he avoided looking at me for more than ten seconds. Did he have a bet going with Nami… ? Kinda like that?

“How rebellious,” I said mockingly and turned back to the sideboard. I didn’t know if it was because of the hot water, which I now let run over my hands, that suddenly my face felt so warm. I wondered how Zoro got the idea I wouldn’t eat enough. That presupposed that he must have observed me - and not only today but over a longer period of time.  
I cleared my throat.

“Since when do you care about my life, Moss Ball? Don’t get me wrong, I feel quite flattered because of your caring” - he snorted briefly – “but it’s none of your damn business, to put it mildly, what and how much I eat.”

Over my shoulder I showed him my most beloved smile, which made him roll his eyes angrily and he finally looked away. I had no idea how insecure these eyes had made me until I audibly exhaled. 

“When we eat together you’re always the one who eats the least,” he began, completely ignoring my previous comment. “Try not to deny it.”

I wouldn’t dream of it, asshole.

“I’ve always assumed you’d just eat or precook something beforehand - or however you cooks call it. But you don’t do that either – or only very rarely.”

My eyes narrowed to menacing slits and I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. Again I exhaled deeply.  
“Oh, is that why you sit around here every day and get on my nerves with your stupid polishing?! To come to such a witty realization?!”

And I had assumed, presumably in a state of mental derangement, that perhaps… possibly… _maybe_ he liked sitting here because… he also thought it was so relaxing. He was and always would be an idiot.

“You are and always would be an idiot.”

“Maybe, Cook.” It was remarkable how well I’ve become able to hear that disgusting, condescending grin from his voice. Was this an indication that maybe we were spending too much time together after all? A terrible thought.

„Hey, I’m just worried,“ he suddenly said and got up abruptly.  
I swallowed. My hands had started to shake.  
He was worried? About… me?

Yeah, sure.

“Sure,” I replied in a husky voice and began mechanically to cut vegetables into slices. How did this work again? Oh, damn.

“Can’t you just fuck off?!”

“Why?” he asked so surprised that I had to suppress a short but nasty laugh. Zoro, as always, had the empathy of a watering can.  
All of a sudden, I could feel his presence right behind me. I almost cut my finger.  
Shit.

“Because you’re annoying me! I don’t know what your problem is today, but... I’m all right. I’m all right, okay?”

“Touchy issue, huh?”  
I gasped for breath.

No, not at all, Mr. Insensitive!  
I’ll tell you something again, idiot.

“You know that I’m… having problems _with it_ ,” I answered in a low voice, all of a sudden. Actually, I wanted to insult him. I’ve never met such a demanding, annoying person as Roronoa Zoro. And yet…

“Yes, I know,” he just replied.

In a cloak-and-dagger operation I had told him. We both had to keep watch in the crow’s nest one night, two or three months ago.  
I didn’t remember anymore how we had come up with such a private matter but I had told him. Just like that. I had told him everything – about the shipwreck, about Red Leg Zeff, and about the eighty-five days without food. Under the screen of night I had confessed to him how scared I was then, barely 10 years old, and how traumatic, lasting, and incisive this experience had been for my further life.

It hadn’t been that bad to talk about it since I’ve dealt with this topic far too often in the past. But for me personally, telling Zoro about it had been quite an effort.  
I probably wouldn’t have told him everything if he had just interrupted me at some point. But he had let me talk for I guess more than one hour nonstop. For a moment I had assumed that he had fallen asleep but he had just listened to my words carefully.  
Since then we haven’t talked about it again.

“That’s why I’m worried.”

It irritated me tremendously that he said such a confession so frankly. When I was worried about him (Shut up.), I usually did my best not to let him know, fearing that he might laugh at me. Although I didn't feel like laughing now.

But what still irritated me most was the fact that he had noticed. _Him_ , of all people.  
Okay, since the experience nine years ago I’ve been eating less than other people. The need to stuff myself properly had been lost ever since. I’ve always eaten as much as I needed – and that wasn’t much. But it was enough to avoid physical complaints.

Food was a delicate subject for me.  
The fact that I had become a chef was first and foremost due to Red Leg Zeff but also to a not inconsiderable part of my own desire to somehow come to terms with this matter.  
As a cook you have many possibilities. You can make sure that food leftovers are not thrown away. There was hardly anything worse than that. Except maybe a dispute with that fucking moss head.

You are also able to affect the eating behavior of others. I like cooking for other people and find it very important that there is always something to eat.  
My vocation as a cook had arisen among other things from the wish that I had the opportunity to prepare something to eat at any time. It didn’t have to be much, not at all, but at least there had to be something there.  
At all costs, I wanted to avoid seeing others as starved as I was then.

“Eat more. You look like a beanpole.”

This… !  
His words hurt me more than I wanted to admit to myself.

“Not everyone can be as fat as you!” I snapped and turned to him with the kitchen knife in my right hand. He stood right in front of me and stared at me with a look on his face that was difficult to read.

“I’m not fat, dumbass,” he replied. “These are muscles.”

True, he wasn’t…  
But I hated it when he came up with the _You’re so skinny_ thing. And that was quite often lately. In such moments I always felt like he was attacking something I couldn’t neither justify nor defend. Not to mention the stab through my heart caused by his stupid insult. Maybe someone should give this fucking brute some empathy.

“Stop bugging me and get the fuck out of here!”  
I held the kitchen knife threateningly in front of his nose and he snorted. With a smirk on his shitty face he raised his right eyebrow and put his hands on his hips as if to challenge me. I felt the sudden urge to cut out his eyes.

“Why do you eat so little?” he suddenly asked quietly and seriously so that I lowered my hand with the knife in disbelief. I still couldn’t believe that we had a conversation so out of our norm. We, of all people. And why did it have to be that fucking swordsman who had noticed it? He who never got the picture of anything that was going on around him.

“I mean,” he cleared his throat, “is something wrong, Sanji?”

_What the fuck._

I laughed for a second. Since when did he care about my life? Zoro, what the hell was wrong with you today… ? This wasn’t like you. Were you seriously worried about me? I felt the urge to laugh again. How sad.

“Is that so funny?” Suddenly he seemed a little upset which didn’t surprise me. I was probably just acting like a real jerk. But there was something slightly self-ironic about the whole thing. Yes, absolutely.

“Say, Zoro… ,” I said softly, following an inner impulse, “are we actually… friends?” It was hard for me to look him in the eyes. Under normal circumstances, I would never have asked him something like that. But right now this situation didn't feel normal at all.

He paused and looked at me quite irritated for a heartbeat before he controlled himself again. I didn’t want to hear the answer anymore. What on earth was wrong with me, damn it?!

“Of course we are.”

Uh. Where was the sarcasm in his voice?

“No need to drop the knife, Curly Brow.”

Shit.  
Stupid knife.

“I’m all right – really,” I said as I bent down to pick up the fallen object. I didn’t look at Zoro while I continued speaking, but his presence right behind me was so incredibly present that it was difficult for me to breathe.

“It’s just… I got this problem and-”

“What problem?” he interrupted me immediately. Involuntarily I had to smile a bit.

“It’s no big deal,” I replied, trying to act casual. “I firmly believe that this problem will soon resolve itself. So, don’t worry.”

Liar.

“Hm.” The answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. For a moment it was so quiet in the galley that I could hear him breathing.

“Eat that piece of cucumber there,” he finally said a little grimly.

Surprised, I turned to face him. “I beg your pardon?”  
He was still standing there the same way. Only in his eyes was now something suspicious. Good Lord, did I ever mention how exhausting this man could be?!

“I said, eat that piece of cucumber there.”

He couldn't have been serious.

“Do you know how ridiculous you’re behaving right now?!”

“I don’t care,” he said harshly and grabbed the said vegetable on the sideboard which I had cut earlier into small pieces when the world was still in order. He now resolutely held the hanging cucumber slice in front of my face. Okay, that _really_ was ridiculous.

“Go ahead, eat.”

“Oh, please,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re totally out of your shitty mind, asshole! I’m not eating anything you’ve touched-”

“Eat that fucking cucumber, you prissy Shit Cook!”

“For God’s sake!!! I’ve had enough of you and your insane childish behavior!” Furiously and completely on the edge I snatched the cucumber slice from him, stuffed it demonstratively into my mouth and chewed on it exaggeratedly, so that he couldn’t complain about it in the slightest. Then I noisily swallowed it and stuck out my tongue at him with an open mouth. 

“Happy?!”

“Yes.” His voice was bursting with satisfaction.  
Grrr. What an utterly fucked up shit this was!

“So, I’m gonna check on Luffy and the others. Let me know when lunch is ready.”

I didn’t know what to say. For a heartbeat I felt a slight regret that he wanted to leave the galley, but that feeling was gone as quickly as it had come.

“Get your shit together and work on that problem of yours,” Zoro said calmly before he closed the door behind him. I hadn’t moved once in the past few seconds.

“Idiot…,” I muttered and started cutting up the rest of the vegetables.  
“The problem is _you_.”

_To be continued_


	2. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Four days.

Four more days was a long time.

The butter was nearly used up. It didn’t look any better with the eggs. We had twelve left. That was three eggs per day. Three eggs per day for seven people…

Nami had said it was four more days until we would reach the next island.

Four days with three large meals per day and two smaller ones in between. Luffy’s inappropriate binge-eating not included.

My head was racing and so was my heart. The next panic attack was already beginning to show me its ugly face. It’s been this way every time. I just couldn’t-

“So here you are.”

I was so scared about the sudden but familiar voice so very close behind me that I dropped an egg. My mind had been completely lost in calculating our remaining food supplies that I hadn’t heard him coming into the galley. Eleven eggs. Shit. That was three and a half eggs per day. And it was all the idiot’s fault.

“What’re you doing here?! Get out of here!” I snapped at him. 

My reaction must have seemed totally exaggerated to this damn moss ball, but catching me at certain other activities couldn't have been more intimate than that. I was very much aware that the meticulous counting of our food supplies seemed strange to outsiders. He wouldn’t understand it at all. No one would, except for the man who had saved my life nine years ago.

With a snarl I knelt down and wiped the broken egg from the floorboards.  
What a mess. Such a waste of food.

“I wanted to check on you,” Zoro said in a tone as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Except it wasn’t. Lately, the shitty swordsman has been lying in wait for me constantly, so I was slowly beginning to wonder if he had put a tracking device on my body somewhere and I just hadn’t noticed it yet. I glanced down at myself. 

On the other hand, I spent more than half my day in the kitchen. Even Zoro’s four measly brain cells must have come to this conclusion. Wait, what made me think he has four? He certainly had less.  
Ah, right. Four more days.

My heart was racing at a speed that felt like a million miles an hour. I didn’t want him to bother me. I wanted him to leave me alone in this matter because that was a thing between me and… and who? The food? Fuck, I’m so tired of all this shit.  
And yet I still couldn’t stop myself.

“Now you’ve… _checked on me_. I still have all my limbs and I’m in full possession of my physical and mental abilities. Was that it?”  
I wondered why I was so openly hostile to him. Or why he was constantly looking after me and asking me such stupid questions. Or why we hadn’t had a fight for weeks. I’ve been wondering a lot lately.

He pushed a chair away from the table und sat down - with his legs wide apart as usual. Apparently, that wasn’t it yet. I sighed softly. Everything that had to do with him lately has been extremely exhausting. I was slowly starting to hate that word _lately_. I didn’t even know if it had anything to do with him… that he… and that I was… because of him… Shit.

He was such an idiot.

Silently, I wrung out the dirty cloth under the faucet. Precious egg slime flowed into the drain. Then I sighed again and turned to face him. He was still sitting there with his legs wide open and was looking at me. There was something promising about that view. I swallowed dryly. I was almost sure what he wanted. And I really wished he would leave me alone.

I just didn’t understand why he permanently interfered in my business. It had been an unwritten law between the crew members of the _Going Merry_ that we don’t interfere in each other’s affairs. Everyone could do their own thing and chase after their dream. We were pirates with mutual respect and loyality for their _nakama_ , yet free and independent. Did I miss something?

“What’s your problem, shithead? Are you hungry? You don’t get anything, got that?! Dinner isn’t for three hours.”  
I looked into the left shelf to avoid looking at him. We had plenty of vegetables left. Cucumbers, carrots, cauliflower,… There was no corn anymore.

“I wonder how many times you want to do this,” he suddenly said. “Do you think I don’t realize how sick that makes you? Well, if we don’t consider the fact that you’re not quite right in the head anyway, Cook.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” I replied and clutched a bag of flour, which I would have dropped by a hair, tightly with my fingers. We barely had any sugar left. I felt the urge to throw something at Zoro’s head, but the flour wasn’t worth it.

To tell the truth, I knew exactly what he meant, but I just didn’t know how to make him understand that there was nothing I could do about it. On the _Baratie_ I was the _sous-chef_ and therefore responsible for the food. Week after week I had keeping lists of all supplies and had been shopping with Patty or Carne every weekend. There were tons of food that couldn’t be compared at all with those we ate every day on the _Going Merry_ (although we had Luffy on board).

But the _Baratie_ had always had reliable suppliers. I had never had to worry about not being able to serve anything to eat for the guests because we simply knew where to get it. But a pirate’s life was different from a floating restaurant. I wasn’t in the same place every week anymore. We traveled the _Grand Line_ and only God or Nami – the goddess – knew when we would have solid ground under our feet next time. 

Since I don’t have the opportunity to buy food at sea anymore, I always had to plan how much was left so that no one goes hungry.

Nami had said four days. But that didn’t have to mean anything because a storm or other forces of nature, not to mention other pirates or the Marines, could give us one more day. And then what? Two eggs per day equally shared between seven people… or one scrambled egg in four days… I could drink coffee instead of eating eggs. We still had lots of coffee left because no one liked it but the girls and me.

My stomach hurt.

“Oi, Sanji.”

God, I didn’t want to hear it. I just didn’t want to hear it.

Zoro slowly pushed the chair back to the table as if he had to reconsider his next steps carefully. Then he came up to me. My fingers were still clutching the flour bag tightly and my stupid heart was pounding like mad. He was right. It made me sick. I felt miserable and I hadn’t even examined the larder. Not for the first time I wondered if other cooks at sea were as crackbrained as me. Do they also have these problems? Or was it just me because I almost starved to death… ?

Suddenly I felt emotionally exposed and stupid. I had the strong need to cry on Zeff’s shoulder because only he could understand how I suffered back then. But I wasn’t ten or eleven years old anymore. Or fifteen. Goddamn…

“I think you’re getting too tense about this, Curly Brow.”

He took the bag of flour out of my hands and put it back in the cupboard. I was unable to do anything and just stood there. I would have preferred it if he had rammed his fist into my face. Sometimes I missed our fights because they didn’t leave any room for interpretation. A physical fight was a unmistakable message. No misunderstandings, no emotional turmoil.

Talking to Zoro, on the other hand, was… unfamiliar. He had always been so uncommunicative and grumpy that I would rather had talked to a spade than to him. Something had changed.

“Listen, we aren’t wussies. I mean, you know us, right? We’re badass. None of us would have a problem with eating less if there wasn’t enough. Not even Luffy,” he added quickly when he saw that I was about to object. 

“We’ve been through worse than this. And you’re not gonna say we’re such a bunch of wimps that can’t eat a little less for a few days, are you? Are you trying to tell me I’m a wimp, shithead?”

I shook my head and had to bite back a grin.  
“Which one of us is afraid of Nami-san and her draconian debt penalties?” Now I grinned. _Touché._  
Zoro snorted and narrowed his eyes to slits. He seemed to have a nasty remark on his lips; I could literally see how he fought with himself. He certainly would say something about my physique again.

Come on, Zoro, give me a good reason to kick you in the head.

“You should look for a hobby other than counting peppercorns, tomatoes, or whatever. That’s not only completely crazy but also batshit insane.”  
Zoro’s way of expressing himself verbally was unique in this world. In contrast, his fucking senses were all the sharper.

“What am I supposed to do instead - watch you work out?”  
This certainly had its charms… But I wasn’t keen on embarrassing situations that included Zoro’s naked upper body and my untrustworthy lower body. I turned to the cupboards when I felt how hot my face suddenly got. Then I cleared my throat and shut the cupboard door to do something… intelligent.

“This would be a meaningful and enlightening leisure activity, for example. But I don’t want to make you jealous.” He sounded like he was grinning. I snorted briefly.  
For a moment it was so quiet between us that I was afraid he might hear my heart pounding. This issue wasn’t over for me.

“Zoro… ,” I started softly and kneaded my fingers. “I don’t want you to go hungry.” I took a deep breath as I carefully chose my next words. Dull pain had been filling my empty stomach.

“Because then I did something… incredibly wrong, you know? As a cook, I have to make sure that there’s always something to eat for you guys. That’s my job here on board. As long as I am a cook, I will _never_ let anyone go to bed hungry.” I shook my head decisively.

“But you’re not helping anyone if you go crazy about it every day. It’s almost like every second of your life you’re expecting to die. We aren’t immortal, we can just kick the bucket every second of our lives, but it doesn’t help at all to always keep that in mind. What’s the point of living a life if you’re constantly afraid of losing it?”

I was perplexed to hear something like that coming out of his mouth. He obviously too because he looked irritated for a split second.

“I had no idea you could speak so wisely, Roronoa Zoro,” I replied mockingly.

“Me neither. My master once said something like that to me. And I took his words to heart. We live a dangerous life. Any day could be my last, Sanji. You know that,” he finally concluded.

_Shut up._

Yeah, I fucking knew it. That shitty swordsman was happy about every sword that gets rammed into his body. To him, scars were the handwriting of his life. Something to be proud of. God, he was such an idiot. But given the fact that he held a special place in my stupid heart, I guess I was the bigger idiot from both of us.

I sighed because I didn’t know what to say – or what he wanted me to say. He was right to some extent, but this whole thing was difficult to deal with. He had said that we were friends. But… without me noticing it, Zoro had crossed the line. And I had the hunch that there was no way back.

As Zoro leaned over me to reach for the eggs, I suddenly realized how close he had been to me the last few minutes. I tried to swallow the fat lump in my throat while breathing heavily. My palms had gotten sweaty.

Zoro had taken an egg in his left hand and began to throw it upwards. I audibly gasped and tried to stop him, but with a condescending grin on his fucking face he took a step back.

“Are you completely out of your fucking mind, asshole?! We hardly have any eggs left! Give it back!“ I desperately tried to snatch the shitty egg out of his hand.

“So what? It doesn’t matter if there’s one more or less,” he replied almost bored as if it was none of his goddamn business. I wanted to kill him. Or at least kick him where it would hurt the most.

Then it all happened very quickly.  
The eggshell broke when I finally got my hands on it. For a few seconds we both stared mesmerized at the egg slime which first ran slowly through our fingers and then dripped to the ground like sticky strings.

“Whoops,” Zoro said, grinning. “Sorry ‘bout that.”  
His tone didn’t sound like it at all.

I furiously grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and I couldn’t care less about the slime on my fingers. At first, Zoro raised his eyebrows in surprise. Apparently, he hadn’t expected such a reaction. I tried to kick his shin but his reflexes were too fast this time.

“You’re a fucking jerk! Go to hell!” I yelled right in his face.

Suddenly I was so goddamn tired of everything! I was so fed up with the fact that he has always been around me lately, giving me a rough time, not to mention that he was persistently interfering in my very private affairs. 

I couldn’t stand him anymore – neither the kind and obviously somehow caring Zoro nor the one who was constantly trying to provoke me and who kept pushing me out of my comfort zone. He was like the two sides of a fucking medal which I didn’t want to wear.

“Sanji, stop it!” Zoro growled and had gotten hold of my wrists.

There were so many things about Roronoa Zoro that I didn’t want to let happen. I didn't want to get used to him because, as he had said, he could die any day. And that would break my stupid heart forever. I didn't want to live in a world where he no longer existed. 

I didn't want to have feelings for him - and yet I hadn't felt so alive for so long. 

His eyes were fixed on me. They seemed to want to tell me something, but I couldn’t get it. The sticky fingers of his left hand felt uncomfortable on my wrists. We both breathed heavily. Why did he… ?

The worst part of it all was that I’ve barely eaten anything lately because I always got sick at the thought that I could never tell him all this. If I did that, I would cross several lines between us without permission. And everything we’ve ever had would be irretrievably gone.

Four more days was the least of my problems.

_To be continued_


	3. "Let's stay friends."

“Are you finally done? Then let’s go get something to eat.”

Uh?

I looked up to him from my grocery list. He had his arms crossed over his chest in his typical manner of defensiveness, as if someone could attack him any second, and kept staring at me.

“Come on. It’s… on me.”

Wait, what?

My gaze glided to the right, then to the left and back again to him. Nobody but us was in the galley. Still, I had to ask because the situation was so… weird. Not for anything in the world did I want to get into any misunderstandings.

“Are you talking to me?”

He rolled his eyes, made a grumpy sound and was now avoiding eye contact with me.  
Interesting. Or rather suspicious.

„Sure, or do you see anyone else here, Curly Brow?” He sounded a little annoyed.

“Did I understand that correctly – please excuse me for asking again, I just don’t want to get anything wrong - that _you_ ,” I pointed my index finger at him, “want to invite _me_ ,” and back to myself, “to dinner?!” 

I mean… that would be really nice of him… sort of. He just couldn’t have been serious.

“For God’s sake… ” He sighed and it almost sounded like a huge effort to say the following words: “That’s so like you again that you have to make a mountain out of a molehill. Yeah, damn it. I’ll treat you, asshole.”

Wow, that was an invitation. Good Lord, that was a fucking _invitation_! From Zoro. To eat out somewhere. And it wasn’t April Fools‘ Day. 

“It’s August,” I stated matter-of-factly and folded the shopping list. Zoro raised an eyebrow. He always did that when he didn’t know what I was getting at. Which happened quite often. 

“So?”

“My birthday is in March. You’re late for a birthday present, Moss Ball.”

He was scowling at me as if he now wanted to eat me for dinner instead of inviting me to it. Like the predator he was.  
For a moment I could feel shivers running down my spine. That fucker had the most intense look I’ve ever seen on this shitty planet. 

“And you’re wearing a pink apron that looks incredibly ridiculous on you, shithead!” was all he said. It was almost cute to see how much he always _tried_. But he simply had the eloquence of a damaged garden hose.

I had to play it safe.

“You didn’t drink the _Mont Blanc_ , did you? Zoro, I swear, if you did that, then-”

“Who?” he asked irritated and cut off all my murderous fantasies that were buzzing through my head.

“The wine I had bought for Nami-san and Robin-chwan two weeks ago! That one was really expensive, and I told you not to drink it! You did it, am I right? And now you’re just asking me to dinner to make up for it, aren’t you?!”

For a few seconds he didn’t say anything, he just looked down at me. Although we were the same height, he was very good at it.

Then it suddenly burst out of him: “Fuck you, Sanji! I didn’t drink any of your frigging fancy wines, got it?! Look—just forget it, okay? I’ll go alone! Screw you, Shit Cook!”

He wanted to leave but I had reached for his left wrist and held it with both hands. I swallowed because his words had given me a dry throat. They had sounded so disappointed and – I couldn’t quite believe it - hurt.

Ouch.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” I spoke carefully and quietly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but I beat him to it. “If you like, you’re allowed to say something nasty about my apron, okay? Or I give you the one-time permission to make a joke about my hair – but only one! Deal?” 

I just wanted to be one hundred percent sure he wasn’t fucking with me. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he, except for the usual insults, has been so nice towards me lately. He had never invited me to dinner before. 

What the hell was wrong with you… ?

His hand was pleasantly warm. Reluctantly, I let it go.

“Your apron is eye cancer causing pink and has a freaking panda on it that’s driving me crazy. Can’t you wear something more manly? I thought you’re a man.”  
He still wasn’t looking at me but at least he didn’t want to leave anymore.

“Do you need proof?” I asked with far more courage than I actually had.

“Che.”

He avoided my gaze and turned to the door instead. Then he cleared his throat and said hoarsely: “Let’s go. The others’ve already left the ship and I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life here.” 

I took off my favorite apron and together we got off the _Going Merry_. 

The sun was shining directly on my head when I finally got my feet back on terra firma again. As we made our way through the busy port, I was wondering if Zoro’s hands were always that warm.

***

Okaa-ay.

I raised an eyebrow and coughed slightly. Zoro was standing right next to me and actually seemed convinced of what he intended to do. At least I couldn’t see any signs of lunacy in his face. He looked like someone who was completely serious.

“Are you sure?“ I asked him for about the fifth time in a row. “I mean, are you _sure_?”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

That was the funniest thing he has ever said. A sad result, when you think about it. The moss head wasn’t good at making jokes. Probably because he was one himself.

We were standing in front of a ritzy restaurant. It was the seventh one we had passed on our short search, which had looked like I had been running after him as he had checked things up and had been constantly mumbling something to himself. He wasn’t that picky, was he?

Next to the entrance stood a man in a black suit and with white gloves who held the door open for the customers. This alone should have alerted and deterred Zoro but it fucking _didn’t_. In his typical masculine way of walking he headed resolutely towards the glass entrance door.

Could someone come and kill me right now… please? 

It didn’t look much better on the inside. Although I was wearing a suit, I found myself ridiculously shabby and… provincial between all the tailcoat-wearers and the dressed up women, whose fancy clothes probably cost more than what Nami had captured from a pirate the other day. Not to mention Zoro and his _I don’t give a damn fuck about what people think of me_ -look. 

I stared at him and at his white shirt and that ludicrous scrap of cloth on his left arm which he called his bandana. His clunky boots were full of dirt because he had stepped into a puddle on the way here. I felt my cheeks getting hotter. Casual was something completely different. Good Lord.

The waiter assigned us a table and we sat down silently. Only now it became suddenly clear to me that we _really and truly_ had a date. _A DATE._

“Are you nuts?!” I hissed at him quietly when the waiter had disappeared.

Zoro, who had already devoted himself to the menu, looked up at me in amazement.

“Hm?”

“Well, this here!” I made a sweeping gesture with my arms and fervently hoped that he would understand. But of course he fucking didn’t! What a surprise! Instead, his eyes practically were popping out of his head. What was wrong with this man?!

“How could you drag me along to such a restaurant?! Have you seen the people who eat here?! Look at the woman back there! Her dress is worth more than our damn ship! We don’t fit in here! Can you even pay for all this shit?!” 

Zoro raised an eyebrow and started to grin slightly.

“Shall we first buy you a dress and then come back?” He let go of the menu, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked dismissively at me. “One with flowers? I think ruffles would look good on y—uh!"

“Next time it won’t be your fucking shin that I’m gonna kick! You can bet your shitty life on it, idiot!” I hissed at him again, hoping the light was dark enough to hide the hot flush on my cheeks. I took a look at the menu to avoid gaping at Zoro and his malicious predator grin (which wasn’t hot, not in the slightest, nope), and wasn’t at all surprised by the extravagant dishes on every page. I was wondering if he only pretended to be able to read. And how he wanted to pay for all this exquisite shit.

I _definitely wasn’t_ planning on running away once I have filled my belly with a sparkling Chardonnay and a fruity endive salad followed by the delicious chives soup with finely diced cheese croutôns and mouth-watering slices of grilled salmon filet _en lorgnette_ enriched with lemony coconut sauce and seasoned with special Mediterranean vegetables, and - last but not least – the juicy red wine poached pear with creamy zabaione yogurt. It was totally out of the question! 

The waiter came back, and with him went the opportunity to ask Zoro if he had bumped his moss head on the sink while pissing this morning. I wouldn’t put it past him.

“Have the gentlemen already decided on a dish? How about _An Opportunity for Two_? This superb dish is much-loved with-“ He coughed slightly and cleared his throat in a breath. “With two very close people.”

Oh God. No. No! This guy didn’t really believe Zoro and I… ?!

“I can also strongly recommend _The Pearl of Sensuality for Him and Her_ —Him. Furthermore, many of our customers are delighted about the heart shaped double straw, that comes with the dessert _Hot Raspberries on the Love Branch_ and which they can keep afterwards.”

I hated him from the bottom of my heart.

“Hmm… ” Zoro flipped through the menu. What was there to flip through, damn it?! Tell that dickhead he can put his _fucking love dishes_ where the sun never shines! 

The shitty swordsman hadn’t even screwed up his face in the past few minutes, but had listened to the waiter’s words with a serious expression and had nodded slightly from time to time while I was wondering if the edges of the menu were sharp enough to slit my throat with them.

“That does sound pretty tempting, indeed.” Zoro still had that serious look on his stupid face and was now putting two fingers to his chin, as he always did when he tought about something conscientiously.

Love dishes, you mutton! What’s the point of having three swords if not to shove them up other people’s asses?! Shit, why do I always like men whose intelligence quotient is barely higher than that of a slice of crispbread?! 

“So, what do you think, Sanji? _An Opportunity for Two_ has broccoli as a side dish. You like to eat that stuff, if I remember correctly.”

The waiter smiled at me smugly. I hated him. Both of them.  
At least it couldn’t get any worse.

“Can I really keep that double straw afterwards?” Zoro asked.

***

The _Going Merry_ was still empty when we returned two hours later.  
With another kick against Zoro’s shin I had been able to prevent us from getting a couple dish. Instead I ate the grilled salmon filet _en lorgnette_ and the juicy red poached pear and drank my Chardonnay with it.

We had hardly exchanged a word during dinner. That moss head had been as uncommunicative as ever, and I hadn’t known what I could have said or what would have been appropriate to end this awkward silence. It was okay to insult each other. That was familiar ground. A romantic dinner in a luxury restaurant… well, I’ll give you three guesses. I sincerely hoped that he hadn’t noticed my trembling fingers while eating.

“Where’s everyone?” Zoro said, more to himself, as he walked across the deck. I caught myself staring at his ass.

“I’m still wondering where you got all the money to pay for the food.” Fortunately, we neither had to run away nor do the dishes. But that didn’t make the whole situation any less unsettling. “Were you turning tricks?” I asked conversationally.

He stopped jerkily and turned to me with a gasp. His eyes narrowed to slits and he flashed angrily at me. I walked up to him with a lovely smile. He rolled his eyes, growled something unintelligible and clomped sullenly into the galley. This, ladies and gentlemen, was our way of having a good conversation!

Zoro came back with two bottles of rum and we sat down in silence under Nami’s orange trees. The sun was about to set and it wouldn’t be long before dusk set in. On the horizon the surface of the sea glittered golden.

“Thank you,” I suddenly said because I remembered that I hadn’t thanked him at all yet. “For the food, I mean,” I added superfluously. 

I sensed Zoro looking at me but pretended not to notice. I had laid down on my back and stared into the tangerine sky. The air was warm, almost heavy, and for a moment I felt light-hearted and carefree. Seagulls were flying over our ship now and then, and their noises mixed with the gentle sound of the waves.

I loved moments like these.  
Especially with him.

“My pleasure.” He cleared his throat briefly. “You liked it, and that’s all that matters. Sometimes you just have to treat yourself to something nice.”

When I looked up at him, he turned his head aside and stared out at the sea. I took another sip of rum. My bottle was almost empty and I felt strangely intoxicated by his closeness. With a smile on my face I leaned against him. He flinched slightly but said nothing. Shoulder to shoulder we watched the sun which would soon have disappeared over the horizon.

“I know why you did that,” I whispered after a while. A candle-light dinner in a posh restaurant was far more pleasant than being forced by him to eat a slice of cucumber.

Zoro didn’t say anything but that was okay. We both knew it.  
The familiar scent of oranges was in the air and I felt pleasantly dizzy. I closed the eyes and dropped my head on his shoulder. Not for the first time I wondered why he smelled so damn good…

“Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum… ” I mumbled to myself.

“Let’s… Let’s stay friends,” Zoro suddenly burst out. I could feel how every muscle in his body was tensing as if I had hurt him in some way. Despite the slight dizziness, I opened my eyes. He didn’t look at me. My stomach began to churn at the thought that I may have done something horribly wrong. 

“Wh—What do you mean?” My voice sounded wobbly and I seriously wanted to kick myself in the head.

Twilight had set in. The seagulls above us had already become dark shadows in the sky. Just because we sat so close to each other, I could see him clearly.

“I… we should stay friends. So… I mean… ” He paused. Zoro was by nature not exactly an eloquent person but the way he didn’t quite know what to say at the moment worried me tremendously. That was so very fucking unlike him that it scared the crap out of me.

“But we _are_ friends.”

He had said so himself a few days ago. I didn’t know why we shouldn’t be friends anymore at some point in the future. We just leave everything as it was. I would deal with my stupid feelings somehow. I could handle it, no problem! I was pretty sure there were other idiots I could fall in love with.

“I know that.” Zoro paused again for a second, still not looking at me. Instead, he was contemplating the calm sea as if it had all the answers to his problems. If only it were that simple. “I mean, after that. When all this is over. When we’ve found the _One Piece_. When our adventure is over. When—Unless, of course, we kick the bucket before all this happens. Then the matter’s resolved itself,” he stated.

That man had the charm of a corkscrew.

“Well, in this case-” I was about to say something sarcastic but the words got stuck in my throat when Zoro suddenly looked me straight in the eye. His brown eyes sparkled in the dusk. I held my breath as I realized how close our faces were to each other.

Whatever I wanted to say… I had completely forgotten.

“Let’s stay friends.” His words came out so forcefully this time as if he wanted to convince himself of something impossible with all his might. Zoro’s voice sounded hoarse and rough. I felt his warm breath, that smelled of rum, on my checks. 

“Everything else would be… ”

I didn’t understand what he wanted me to do or to say. Or what the fuck his problem was. I simply didn’t know what was happening at all! I only noticed that there was the smell of oranges and rum in the air. That there was the damn swordsman and his heavy breath and the heat his body radiated, but which didn’t feel unpleasant in the slightest.

I couldn’t move anymore and felt a strange mixture of panic and excitement.

“… it would be… ”  
I barely heard him.

My fingers tightened on the empty rum bottle.  
Zoro closed his eyes and took one deep breath.

And then it happened.

He kissed me in the same breath as he whispered the word _stupid_ on my lips.

…

THAT wasn't a kiss between _friends_.

_To be continued_


End file.
